


Kill the lights and kiss my eyes

by GhostOfHarrenhal



Category: Agent Carter (TV), Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Domestic, F/M, Peggy in present MCU, imagine your otp patching each other up
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-29
Updated: 2015-08-29
Packaged: 2018-04-17 19:18:33
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,429
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4678310
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GhostOfHarrenhal/pseuds/GhostOfHarrenhal
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Modern!Steggy. Steve and Peggy have a quiet moment after returning home from a mission.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Kill the lights and kiss my eyes

**Author's Note:**

> _“When you kill the lights and kiss my eyes, I feel like a person for a moment of my life”_

She walks through the door first, reaching back to remove her shoes. His hands work the locks with practiced agility before he turns and wraps an arm around Peggy’s waist. He pulls her close walking them slowly backwards until they collide against the foyer wall with a soft thud and she rests her cheek on his shoulder feeling the roughness of armor underneath his civilian clothes.

 

Their lives are reduced to sore muscles and the dulled sounds of the city at 3am bleeding in through imperceptible cracks in the windows of their Brooklyn apartment. The car engines, feet tapping the pavement, restaurant doors opening and falling shut behind customers and indistinct chatter adding to a mass of familiarity that equates silence to them and integrates the stillness of the dimly lit environment in place of disrupting it.

 

He plants a kiss to the top of her head and breathes her in with eyes closed, attentive to the rhythm of the rise and fall of her chest against his own and the way her lungs seem to rattle when she inhales.

 

“Were you hurt?” He mouths the words into her hair, a whisper scrapped by exhaustion while his hands glide up from her waist to her ribs until she hisses in pain when the touch levels with her heart.

 

“A bullet graze,” she answers softly bringing her own hands to remove his from her wound. “It will heal.”

 

Steve reaches behind her back, searching for the zipper to the uniform underneath her button-down with the tips of his fingers until he finds the trail on the small of her back and follows it up to her hairline before pulling it open slowly

 

“Let me see it,” he asks.

 

He leans back turning to reach for the light switch and flicks it on while Peggy undoes her buttons and shrugs off the shirt before doing the same with the top half of her battle gear. It reveals an inch wide gash just beneath her bra strap surrounded by a wet red stain that leaks from the wound down to her waist.

 

“It needs stitches” He declares, kneeling down with his hand hovering over the edges of the injury as he studies it thoughtfully.

 

“You can sew it,” Peggy says and he looks up to meet her stare.

 

“I don’t know how I feel about enabling your refusal to go to actual doctors.”

 

She rolls her eyes. “This hardly calls for professional medical attention.”

 

Steve ponders taking her to the hospital if only to prove a point. He narrows his eyes at her arched eyebrows and airs of superiority, almost opens his mouth to tell her that’s what they’ll be doing, but making her move could open the gash and restart the bleeding unnecessarily. He _can_ patch her up right here.

 

The taste of defeat isn’t his favorite.

 

“You have to stop doing this. When we finish missions they ask everybody if they need medical attention.”

 

Peggy smiles smugly. “Does that mean you’ll do it?”

 

Steve grunts in frustration and lets his forehead fall against her middle.

 

“Go sit down. I’ll get the kit,” he mumbles.

 

“I need help taking the rest of these clothes off, if I lean this thing will rip open.”

 

She is still only half naked with the top part of her uniform hanging around her hips. He nods, reaching to unzip it the rest of the way down before slipping the suit to the floor and holding out a hand to support her while she steps out of the bundle of fabric.

 

“Try not to move too much,” he advises.

 

Steve stands and walks to the kitchen, reaching inside a cabinet above the stove. He pulls out a white box with the SHIELD crest on the top and places it on the counter before popping open the lid. He fumbles with the contents until he finds the surgical needle and thread and turns, shutting the kit with an elbow, before walking over to where Peggy is sitting on their bed and placing the materials on the nightstand to pull up a seat.

 

“You should probably wash your hands, darling,” she says, looking down at his fingernails with an arched eyebrow.

 

Steve looks up, lips pursed. “You don’t think I know that?”

 

She shrugs and he rolls his eyes.

 

“Get the alcohol and the cotton out of the drawer, please” he says, turning and heading for the sink.

 

He scrubs thoroughly, brushing underneath fingernails until his hands feel clean enough to suture. He dries them with a fresh towel and turns to meet Peggy’s stare.

 

“Satisfied?” he asks sarcastically wiggling his fingers to illustrate the point.

 

She smiles. “Very.”

 

Her dimples are disarming. He’s almost forgotten he’s not supposed to let her walk out of headquarters without a checkup.

 

“Alright, let’s do this” he whispers, settling on the chair.

 

Steve opens the needle and thread, then carefully lays them over the sterilized package before shifting his attention to cleaning her wound. He does the bloodstain first, wiping cotton soaked in watered down alcohol over her skin. She sucks in air through her teeth at the sting when he gets to the actual tear and he tries being as delicate as he can manage without doing a poor job of it. Once it’s done he throws away the bloodied cotton and reaches for the suturing material, taking a deep breath before starting the work.

 

Peggy concentrates on not flinching while Steve pushes the needle through the borders of the gash. He is skilled and she can’t help but admire how gracefully he manages to patch her up considering he’d learned this from other medically inexperienced soldiers during the war eighty years ago.

 

“You’re good at this,” she compliments when It’s done, shifting carefully to analyze his work without tearing the stitches.

 

“You’re supposed to do this with clamps. It would look better if you’d gone to the medical ward,” he says, watching the skin he’s just sew with a frustrated frown.

 

She just smiles and reaches for his chin to turn his eyes to her.

 

“I like scars,” she whispers before pulling him towards herself until their lips meet in a soft kiss.

 

“Thank you Steve,” she says while stroking her thumb against his cheek affectionately. “What would I do without you?”

 

“Seek professional help. Get a nurse next time” he reprimands, but it lacks impact when he’s leaning into her touch, eyes falling slowly shut with satisfaction.

 

“If you had to visit a nurse every time a bullet grazed your side instead of waiting for the serum to take charge you’d be as bad as I am,” Peggy points out. “Probably worse.”

 

He doesn’t respond, just grunts and moves closer to the edge of the bed until he can lay his head on her lap.

 

She leans down as best as she can manage without stretching her side to place a kiss to his cheek and he shifts until he’s facing up with eyes still closed.

 

“I think it’s time for bed,” he whispers and she smiles, lowering herself again to brush her lips against both his eyelids.

 

“I agree.”

 

He nods and reaches up to capture her mouth in his for another quick kiss before standing up, already unbuttoning.

 

“You can lay down, I’ll get the lights” he says, throwing his shirt to the side and moving onto removing his uniform.

 

She nods her agreement, making herself comfortable while he steps out of his gear and then flicks the switch off.

 

The lights outside seep in through the blinds giving her a chance to watch while Steve moves in his boxers to get a glass of water from the kitchen. She listens as the water falls and hits the bottom of his Thor mug, the sound growing softer as it fills to the brim then fading completely when he closes the tap.

 

He crosses the apartment back to his side of the bed gulping it down and places the empty glass on his bedside table before laying next to her.

 

“I wish missions ended earlier,” he mumbles.

 

Steve settles face down into a pillow and reaches sideways for Peggy who moves until she’s half sitting and pressed to his side, thighs against his ribs.

 

“Illegal dealings demand a nightly setting more often than not I’m afraid,”

 

Her hands start stroking his back and she hears him sigh contently as her nails brush against his skin and she repeats the movement a few more times until she feels his breathing even.

 

“Goodnight, Steve,” she whispers.

 

It goes unanswered.


End file.
